


Walking with a Shadow

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, Past Child Abuse, Smoking, Trans Male Character, Violence, season one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Oswald can see himself becoming something big in this city, but for as much as he loves the life he's chosen to live he isn't entirely sure he wants to help guide Ed into the same life style of death and violence.





	1. Chapter 1

That day at the GCPD when the gangly nerd of a man approached Oswald asking him riddles and looking at him as if he were fascinating, Oswald felt it was safe to assume he’d never see the man again. He was just an oddball who worked at the GCPD, he probably lived a safe life, and just wanted to know what it would be like to converse with somebody dangerous. Even the man’s name which he’d proudly announced was all but forgotten, a minute memory with no power or weight to it. That’s why Oswald is surprised and irritated when he sees the man in his club.

He spots him mulling around near the end of the bar, he’s ordered a drink he seems to have little interest in. His clothes are ill fitted, his brown slacks too short exposing mismatched novelty crew cut socks, his black button up is tucked into his pants, and the jacket he wears looks like it has seen better days. He looks awkward and out of place, he startles when a woman with a pixie cut and spiked collar bumps into him, he stumbles over an apology which she ignores. People who come to Oswald’s are people he knows more or less; they’re junkies, drug dealers, people he would spend time with before he’d been taken in by Fish Mooney. It’s rare for this club to make any real money ever since he took it over, half the drinks end up being free, his friends are rarely good for it.

Oswald tries to remember the stranger’s name, he thinks it starts with an E, but he isn’t sure. Edgar perhaps or maybe it was Jonathan. 

It doesn’t matter, regardless this man works for the cops, he doesn’t belong in this place. 

As Oswald approaches him the man notices him, he straightens up, smiling brightly as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He honestly looks delighted to see him here, Oswald doesn’t trust him.

“Mr. Penguin I was hoping to see you here.” He says happily, he holds his hand out waiting for a handshake.

Oswald glances down at his hand, snickers then looks back up at him. “Look I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but this isn’t the type of place you’re supposed to be.

He considers having Butch toss him out, but he doesn’t want the guy humiliated and he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

The man’s smile drops, he drops his hand back to his side. For just one second, he looks hurt, possibly even mad, but as fast as the second comes it goes and the smile returns.

“I’m sorry but the last time I checked I believe this night club is still open to the public, myself included. Unless of course that policy has changed since Falcone gave it over to you.”

Oswald tenses, he reaches out and grabs the man’s arm gripping it tightly. The man winces, but he doesn’t attempt to pull his arm away.

“Take some advice friend, get out of here. Whatever it is you’re looking for or hoping to find, it isn’t here.” He says, warns as he jerks him forward. He places his hand on the man’s back and shoves him forward towards the front entrance.

He hopes and assumes that this time the stranger will show himself out, if not he’ll have Butch toss him out.

He makes his way through the club in search of his brain washed right hand man, he finds him near the stage watching a local punk band play a terrible cover of Holiday in Cambodia. 

“Butch can I borrow you for a second?”

“Course boss, what is it?”

“There’s a man here, well he’s left now, but he’s rather tall and skinny. He’s dressed like a nearly retired high school teacher-“

“Is that him over there?” Butch asks looking over his shoulder.

“Over where?”

He points now, “By the bar, talking to your mom.”

Oswald tenses, he turns to see that the man from the GCPD who may or may not be a cop for all he knows is by the bar smiling and talking to his mother. 

He makes his way towards them already planning on how he may or may not stab him in the alleyway, he warned him to leave and he didn’t listen. 

“Mother there you are.” 

She turns away from the man who isn’t supposed to be here and smiles at her son. “I was just having the most lovely conversation with this friend of yours….What was your name again?”

“Edward, Edward Nygma” He states proudly, Oswald wonders why he’s so proud of his name.

He must admit the name sounds fake; a fake name means a past that is meant to be hidden. 

“Edward such a lovely name, Oswald why didn’t you ever tell me about him before? You never let me meet your friends, I always worry that you weren’t making any.” 

Deep down he knows it would be freeing to just tell her he doesn’t know Ed, Butch isn’t a friend he’s a brainwashed idiot, Gabe is a moron he pays to protect him, and Jim well….On a good day he likes to think Jim is his friend but deep down he knows it isn’t true. 

Instead of telling the truth he smiles shyly, “I’m sorry mother, you know how busy I am.” He lies, he momentarily glares in Ed’s direction, but Ed merely smiles as if he is incapable of seeing that he’s crossing multiple lines.

“Your mom was just telling me she taught you to play piano when you were little.” Ed speaks as if this was literally his only purpose, to spend time with Oswald and his mom.

He wonders if maybe this man isn’t a threat, maybe he’s lonely and slightly off in the head. His actions and words so far hold no real threat, he has nothing to gain from learning Oswald can play the piano. 

“Do you play?” Oswald inquires.

Ed tilts his head, hums happily as if this was what he was waiting for. “I do, I’m self taught.”

He seems happy to be asked about himself, to divulge information. 

“I would love to hear you play sometime, perhaps sometimes you can come over for dinner?” 

Oswald feels himself tensing again, he doesn’t want Ed to know where they live, he doesn’t want this stranger who persistently bugs him to be showing up at the apartment unannounced.

“I would love that.”

Of course, he would.

Before the conversation can go any further Oswald steps away from his mother and takes hold of Ed’s forearm squeezing tightly. “If you’ll excuse us, I actually have a few things I wish to discuss with Ed.” He says as he turns leading him away.

As he leads him towards the back office, he thinks over what Ed could possibly want. If he wanted money, he would have outright said something, if he wanted to blackmail him then he’s going about it quite wrong, if he wants to arrest him then he already would have done it. It angers him that he can’t read what this man wants, he just wears that dorky nearly naïve smile as if he really doesn’t understand this, any of this.

Oswald leads him into the office, he closes and locks the door behind them.

“Now that we’re alone maybe you can tell me what the Hell it is that you want.”

Ed blinks, he seems taken aback by this. “I-I would like if perhaps I could get to know you better. You’re becoming quite the interesting fellow.”

Oswald leans back against the door; he closes his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He’d prefer if Ed was a cop here to bust him or a scorned family member of one of the people he’s murdered. Instead Ed just seems…. Odd and Oswald isn’t sure if he wants to pity him ore throw him out before he can get any ridiculous ideas.

“So, what, you just came here hoping to be my friend?” 

Ed’s quiet, he presses his lips together in a thin line and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose again. He looks suddenly awkward, young and unsure of himself; for a moment Oswald realizes they’re both young, but Ed does not live the type of life he does. He most probably lives a life that’s safe, not one where every day might be the last.

“Perhaps….If that isn’t okay with you then I was really hoping that perhaps we could help each other out.”

Oswald raises an eyebrow at this, he crosses his arms over his chest and nods for him to continue on.

“Well as you know I work at the GCPD, I hear all sorts of talk, an-and I could very easily get access to any information you might want or need.”

It’s a good offer, but nobody makes offers without wanting something in return. “What do you want from me?”

“Well I was….I was hoping you could mentor me. You, the way you are….It’s exhilarating, if I could just in some way be part of that, of the life you live then that would be great.”

Oswald laughs, Ed startles, he looks hurt and embarrassed by Oswald’s reaction to his request.

“You do not want to live this life. Have you even killed somebody before?”

Ed’s quiet, he looks away but shakes his head no. He begins nervously fidgeting with his fingers. “I…Sometimes I want to, there are men that I work with an-and…Sometimes I vividly imagine murdering them.” He closes his eyes, his body tenses and for a second Oswald sees him as somebody different.

For a second he can honestly believe Edward Nygma might be capable of murder.


	2. Chapter 2

When Oswald tells Ed to meet him at his club, he almost hopes that the other man doesn’t show up. He has some odd hope that just maybe over night and through the day as Ed goes through his boring routines of life, he realizes that he should talk to a professional about his frustrations, that becoming a criminal isn’t what he should be doing. To be honest he isn’t completely sure Ed even wants to become a criminal, the darkness in his eyes when he’d begun talking about a man named Tom and talking about Bullock had sent a bit of a shiver down Oswald’s spine. It had been like watching a different person suddenly. Ed has no interest in becoming a mobster from what he can tell, he just wants revenge on work place bullies.

His hopes of Ed chickening out are dashed when the man in question enters the bar looking far too happy, then again he seems to always be happy. 

“I was beginning to think you changed your mind.” Oswald confesses, he snaps his fingers at the young man behind the bar before pointing at his own now empty glass then signaling for him to give him two more.

“Of course not. If I’m being completely honest I would have loved to have had these conversations with you the first time we met, but you appeared rather….Preoccupied and upset.” 

Oswald smiles, “You would be correct in that.”

As much as he often finds himself admiring Jim, he often finds himself feeling moronic in the way he follows the detective around. 

The bartender comes back with two drinks then scurries away; eyes locked on the floor. Oswald pushes one of the drinks towards Ed who gratefully takes it.

“I hear Gordon talking to Bullock sometimes about you, I know that you help him sometimes.”

“I do, I try at least….Speaking of Jim though, he does on occasion drop by here to see me. Aren’t you afraid he might find you here?”

He highly doubts Jim would expect to find Ed here of all places, he gets the feeling Ed doesn’t get noticed at work often but has the reputation of being harmless. To find him here might raise flags.

Ed furrows his brow acting as if he hasn’t thought of this before, but Oswald knows better than that. He wouldn’t have come to this place to begin with if he hadn’t already thought over the risks and the potential outcomes. 

“I would simply explain to him that we’re friends.”

Oswald laughs, Ed looks annoyed.

“I’m sorry but that would only raise suspicion, you’re secretly friends with a well known criminal and snitch.”

“Friends from school, I would tell them I knew you in high school.”

Now Oswald’s confused, he finds himself staring at him, Ed smiles. He knows things that Oswald doesn’t know he knows, it’s frustrating.

“We’ve never met before.”

“Technically you are right, but I do know you were a grade above me.”

It’s fully possible that he’s lying, but he doesn’t appear to be. “Tell me by chance did you read my police file?”

“I did actually, I read it not long after I talked to you at the precinct. I must admit it took me awhile to find your file considering the change of first name and a different spelling and pronunciation of your last name. When I started going through your file, I came across a mugshot of you from when you were eighteen, I realized I recognized you. You definitely look different with black hair.”

Oswald feels his cheeks flush; he downs his drink then snaps at the bartender for another one. 

He isn’t sure if he admires Ed’s seeming obsession with information or deeply bothered by it. Ed’s met his mother, he knows his dead name, they went to the same school together and for the life of him he truly doesn’t remember ever seeing this boy or hearing his name. There had been multiple boys named Ed at their school, but he doesn’t recall anybody with the last name Nygma.

“Nygma isn’t your real last name.” He finally says looking at him.

Ed smiles, “Correct.”

“What’s your last name then?”

“It is, was Nashton.”

The name still doesn’t ring any bells, but he’s sure he can have Butch look into him if he really wants to. 

“Why did you change your last name, especially to something I must say is….Slightly ridiculous.”

“I love puzzles and riddles; I like being E. Nygma.”

Oswald rolls his eyes; Ed seems proud of himself.

“What made you choose the name Oswald?”

“I didn’t, my mother chose it. When I came out to her I simply asked her what she would have named me….She picked Oswald, she didn’t say why.”

He almost wonders if it was his father’s name, she never talks about him. He almost feels like broaching that topic with Ed, but refrains. He reminds himself he doesn’t know him; they had attended the same treacherous public school and that was it. 

“I feel it’s same to assume at this point that you aren’t a cop.” Oswald says changing the topic away from himself and names, their pasts, and into the present at hand.

Ed may very well be useful to him, if not at the moment then in the future when Falcone, Mooney, and Maroni are completely out of the picture. 

“Correct again, I work forensics.”

A man who spends his time at work dusting for prints and studying cadavers, he almost isn’t surprised that Ed’s fascinated with death and homicide. The field of work offers him little help, admittedly Ed should be somebody who would know the best way to dispose of a body, but Gotham river is filled with corpses, he doesn’t need an acid bath to assist him with that part of his job. 

“When we were talking before….You mentioned wanting to kill people, do you really mean that, or are you just frustrated?”

“I mean it, I think so anyway. This man at work, Tom….He, he’s dating Ms. Kringle and the other day she had bruises on her arm and she was crying. I think that he hurts her.”

Oswald doesn’t care about a Tom or a Ms. Kringle, he can tell that at its core there’s something deep rooted and personal here.

“Not to be callous, but don’t you think that’s a personal matter she can handle on her own?”

Ed doesn’t refer to her by her first name, he speaks formally about her as if he doesn’t really know her. Oswald himself would much rather kill people who have personally wronged him or stand in the way of what he wants to obtain, he doesn’t see the use in murdering a person over something that doesn’t influence his life.

“I-I tried talking to her, but she didn’t want to listen to me. I don’t know why she’s with him, he doesn’t care about her, o-or treat her right.” He stammers as he grows frustrated.

“Do you have feelings for her?”

“That has nothing to do with this.” 

Oswald smirks, suddenly Ed appears transparent to him. He’s shy and insecure, a crush on a woman he’s most probably barely spoken to, and now he wants to rescue her. It’s almost disappointing to realize he’s so simple in his logic, his anger.

“As much as I understand your plight, I truly do….I just don’t feel that murder is the route to take. I’m sorry to hear that she’s with somebody who abuses her, but killing a cop is rarely a wise move.” 

Ed opens his mouth to speak, to argue his case that this is a thing he needs to do. He feels like he needs to get rid of a person who believes it’s okay to hurt women, Oswald wouldn’t argue him on that, he’s seen his mother date multiple men who think they have the right to hurt women, and he saw to their disappearances each time. Still though he doesn’t want to be left to help clean up the mess and help dispose of the body if Ed kills this man and regrets it afterwards, he doesn’t want to be an accomplice to the murder of a cop.

Oswald grabs his drink and gets up from his seat, “I wish I could be of more assistance, but I’m afraid I can’t be.” He pats his shoulder before turning and walking away from him.

He hopes and nearly assumes he won’t be seeing him again.


	3. Chapter 3

Oswald finds himself in the following weeks thinking about Ed as crazy as that is. It bugs him that his thoughts drift to the tall awkward man with his dreams and doubts of murder and rescuing girls from abusive men. It’s not like he’s constantly running through his mind, he has much more important things in his life to focus on, but in the moments where he isn’t scheming and lying, he thinks about him. It doesn’t help that his mother continues to ask about him, asking why he doesn’t ever have him over.

“He seems like such a nice boy and so sweet.” She says as she sits on a couch that is rather antique, one of the rats she’s caught and decided to keep is on her lap looking oddly content.

Oswald often wonders why she doesn’t just buy a domesticated rat from the pet shop that is only a few minutes away from their apartment, Hell he would buy one for her, but instead she often tries to befriend and tame the city rats who wander aimlessly into large traps. 

“I know mom.” He responds, exhausted.

He loves his mother, and, in all actuality, he understands her concerns. He had no friends in school, well none that she was aware of. Now he was twenty-six and his only friends were men he paid or had had brainwashed to stick by his side, to be nice to him. Ed was technically the first and only person he knows who seems genuine in his own strange way, he still feels bad he doesn’t remember him from school.

“I still say you should have him over; it’s been so long since I’ve been able to cook for a guest.” 

He tries to think of the last time they even had guests, their qualification for that word was odd at best. Guests were typically men she’d dated when Oswald was a teenager, the last hadn’t exactly been too thrilled to find out the woman he was dating had a teenage child who was in the beginning phases of transitioning. Outside of that their guests were cops who never crossed the threshold, only came to the door to tell her that they caught her son committing various petty crimes or getting into brawls with men twice his size and age. It’s not like it would hurt anything to invite Ed over, he was in all essence harmless.

“Okay I’ll ask him over for dinner.”

“That is so wonderful, it’ll be so nice to have company, and to see you with him. He’s such a handsome boy, I still think you should have told me about him sooner.”

“I know, sorry, it just slipped my mind.” He lies smiling softly.

Lies, he lies often to his mom. He isn’t sure he could handle ever telling her the truth about most things. She’s happy now, she gets up from the couch, rat cradled in her arm. The rodent looks happy, spoiled as if it has finally realized that a domesticated life is much better than a life spent crawling through muck and sewers. His mother comes over to where he sits, she kisses his cheek and thanks him again for agreeing to invite Ed over for dinner, she then heads into the small kitchen to plan what to make.

He reasons with himself that Ed is a good alibi. If he disappears for a bit, can’t make it home before the middle of the night he can always claim he was spending time with his friend. It works, he was running out of other lies; his mother spends a lot of time at his night club, too much to believe him when he says he was working late. He hates lying to her, he used to even promise himself to never lie to her; she after all did raise him by herself. He had no idea how she did it, he admired her for what she was capable of doing, and he knew that the way they lived was not ideally the life she’d wanted her child to have, but it was the best she could do for him. He appreciated all of it even if deep down he always did want more and hopefully soon he’d have more, he could have money, power, and a large home that she could live in.

He gets up and leaves the living room, he goes back to his bedroom. The room is ridiculously small, almost claustrophobic in its size, he used to believe it was just the way the apartment was set up, but in later years he had come to find this was a one-bedroom apartment. This room was never meant to house a bed and a bookshelf, it was a miniature study. He used to just think his parents had gotten a one-bedroom apartment with no plans on having any children, but a part of him knew they naturally would have begun looking for a bigger place to live once finding out. 

As he sits down on the twin sized bed that takes up almost half the room, he thinks about how little time he spends at home in recent months. He’s rarely home, always distracting himself with running his new club, with keeping himself alive, and above water.

There are posters on the walls, some advertise for classic horror films while others are posters for punk and metal bands he listened to when he was in high school and still listened to even now. He looks at the framed photo of him and his mother that sits atop the small bookcase. The photo was taken when his hair had still been blond, a choppy haircut he’d given himself one day when the long hair he’d had up until that point had finally just driven him insane. His face in the photo was softer, his clothes baggy to hide his chest because the binder he’d had at the time was cheap and given to him by a classmate. The photo had been taken not long after he tearfully came out to his mom, scared she might not be thrilled to find out the child she raised as a girl for so many years identified as a boy. She hadn’t been mad or upset, she’d been so incredibly supportive of him. 

He still remembers her reaction when he finally dyed his hair black, got a professional haircut instead of one he did himself. She’d just hugged him and cried, muttered about how much he looked like his father.

It’s a wonderful compliment, but a bitter one for him at the same time. He often thinks about how he knows nothing about his father, he knows that he’s dead. Supposedly he died shortly after Oswald was born, but anytime he has tried to ask his mother about him she generally grows quiet or cries. He’s learned over the years to just not broach the topic, he hates seeing her upset, and deep down a part of him thinks that maybe she’s lying. It feels horrible to think she’s lying, he doesn’t know why she would be lying about such a thing, but she’s human. 

He lays back on his bed and realizes they all lie, it’s the only way anybody really survives in Gotham.


	4. Chapter 4

Typically, when Oswald goes to the GCPD it’s to visit Jim much to the displeasure of the detective. He admires Jim, he full heartedly believes the man could change the city in some way to make it less corrupt, but he knows that their friendship tends to be one-sided in a way.

This time though he comes to see Ed. It isn’t hard to find him either, he finds him hiding out in the autopsy room. He’s sitting at a small desk reading a book looking fully concentrated and lost in what he’s reading. Oswald closes the door behind him loud enough to announce himself, Ed jumps, he turns to see who entered the room. He smiles when he sees who it is.

“Mr. Penguin I didn’t expect to see you here, are you here to see detective Gordon?”

“Just call me Oswald and no, I actually came here to visit with you.”

Ed perks up at that, it seems like it means a lot to him that he’s here to see him, and maybe this makes him feel their deal is on again. 

“After the last time we talked I started to assume you might not want to talk again.” Ed confesses.

“Just because I’m not fully supportive of your desire to kill a woman’s boyfriend doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Friends. Friends works, Ed could use one and frankly he himself could use a friend. 

“I’d like that. You actually came at a good time, my shift just ended.” He says as he gets up from his seat.

Oswald watches him as he stretches, notes just how tall and lanky this man really is, but admittedly he is handsome he finds himself thinking for one stray moment before pushing the wayward thought aside. 

“Excellent, I was wondering if maybe we could go get a couple of drinks and then you can come over to my mom’s apartment for dinner. She’s seriously been driving me crazy asking about you.” 

It feels foreign to invite this man to drinks, to want him over to the place where he lives. A part of him thinks that this sounds like asking somebody out on a date which causes a strange nervousness in the pit of his stomach, Ed doesn’t notice any of this, he merely smiles.

“That sounds wonderful.” 

Oswald leads him out of the room, they make their way to the bull pen which is filled with cops. He feels a sense of unease around them, he’s been arrested by almost half the men in this room, some glare at the pair of them. Ed suddenly stops, Oswald stops with him wondering what’s suddenly caught his attention. He follows his gaze to see a couple standing near a desk; there’s a man around Ed’s height but much more muscular, he’s typically handsome, grinning broadly. Leaning back against the desk looking mildly uncomfortable is a woman in her twenties, her bright red hair pulled back into a ponytail, she wears glasses similar to Ed’s, her pink painted lips are pulled into a timid nervous smile. 

“I take it that that’s him.” Oswald says glancing at Ed.

Ed swallows hard, nods his head. “I don’t get why she’s with him.” He whispers angrily, his gaze is locked on them.

There’s something about Ed as he watches the couple, this violent energy that makes Oswald grab his arm and lead him away. His friend calms again once they’re outside, once the couple is no longer in his line of vision Ed seems to return to normal as if he’s forgotten all about it. Ed takes him to his car, they get in, and immediately Ed begins to ramble on about his day as if all of this is a typical routine for them. Oswald is polite, he listens and nods; he zones out and ignores the things Ed talks about every now and again, realizes that sometimes Ed talks too much. He’s happy when they pull up to the curb outside of the club, smiles upon seeing the purple neon umbrella in the window marking this territory as his own. 

Ed gets out of the car, comes around to his side and opens the door for him. Oswald leads him into the mostly empty club, music blaring from its speakers, before they reach the bar the bartender is already getting drinks ready for them. Oswald loves when he doesn’t have to tell the employees what to do.

They seat themselves and Ed resumes talking until Oswald finally interrupts him. 

“I do have to ask you about the couple back there.”

“What about them?” Ed quietly asks, he sips at his drink seeming awkward and uncomfortable by the change of conversation.

“If you had no romantic interest in the woman would you still want her boyfriend dead?”

Ed takes a sip from his drink, “Yes, what he does….What he does is wrong, and he seems so proud of it. He thinks that it’s…He acts like it’s a mans right to do that, to treat women like that. It isn’t right.” 

He watches him closely, he can see this is more than just the idea of right and wrong, this is something personal to him. He feels like he’s accidentally found something out about his newfound friend, but he knows it would be rude to ask him about that.

“You do realize over half the men you work there with do such things, worse things actually. That place is crawling with drug dealers, rapists, and murderers.”

The cops of Gotham are corrupt, in some ways it’s like a cult where the only way to be initiated is to commit a murder. 

“I know.” 

“Then why did you ever decide to work there?”

“I used to for a little bit want to be a cop, but that never would have worked out. Working in the forensics department, being able to help solve crimes in some way is the closest I can get. I started there because I really did-do want to, want to help people.” 

It feels complicated that he can want to help people and kill people all at once. Oswald knows that Ed is frustrated, he’s frustrated, and he feels like he has no control or real way to be listened to. He works with and for people who don’t care what he thinks or feels, he’s attracted to a woman who is dating a man she probably won’t ever feel strong enough to break up with and would never be able to report for domestic violence. 

“Not too different from what I do, well what I want to do.” Oswald says, he downs his own drink, the bartender starts on another for him.

“Really?”

“There’s a lot of chaos anymore with the major crime families, with Falcone in the shape that he’s in they’re all like sharks swarming in the water. I do appreciate the old ways, if it wasn’t for Mooney or any of them then I wouldn’t be here at all right now.” 

She had after all bailed him out of jail the last time he’d tried and failed at robbing a gas station, she’d seen something in him, decided to take him in. She’d been cruel to him but he learned a lot from her cruelness and from listening in on her conversations with Maroni and Falcone. 

“What are you planning?” Ed inquires, he looks excited to be part of this, trusted enough to be a part of this conversation that pulls him in closer to a lifestyle he is not really a part of.

“That I can’t disclose, but once I’m in charge of things here I’m making changes.” He says smiling, there’s many people he wants to put in their place, others he plans on having murdered the second he has his hold over the city.

“I look forward to whatever it is you plan on doing, you’re a very interesting man.”

It’s a genuine compliment, that’s the thing about Ed and the things that he says, he’s often genuine in his statements. He realizes that since they first met Ed’s never insulted him, mocked him, or laughed at him; he’s always curious to learn about him, always polite. He finds himself smiling at him, he feels a strange sense of content to be sitting here with him.

“When I become king of Gotham maybe I can find a place for you.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure, I mean….You’re smart and you could be useful.” He reasons, he wants to keep Ed in his inner circle.

He reminds himself this is dangerous on many levels, but Ed looks thrilled to be included, involved in his life and his business. There’s something about seeing Ed happy, there’s something about the fact that Ed has no demands. He knows just like the rest of them Ed has secrets and he lies, he keeps things from everybody around him, and that’s fine. It would be rather unnerving if he didn’t do that, but even with all of that Ed is genuine, transparent with his thoughts and his emotions, he’s a friend he doesn’t have to pay to keep around.


End file.
